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- Рэй Брэдбери
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- 451 по фаренгейту
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- Стр. 157/158
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Granger
unfolded
an
oilskin
with
some
bacon
in
it
.
"
We
'll
have
a
bite
.
Then
we
'll
turn
around
and
walk
upstream
.
They
'll
be
needing
us
up
that
way
.
"
Someone
produced
a
small
frying-pan
and
the
bacon
went
into
it
and
the
frying-pan
was
set
on
the
fire
.
After
a
moment
the
bacon
began
to
flutter
and
dance
in
the
pan
and
the
sputter
of
it
filled
the
morning
air
with
its
aroma
.
The
men
watched
this
ritual
silently
.
Granger
looked
into
the
fire
.
"
Phoenix
.
"
"
What
?
"
"
There
was
a
silly
damn
bird
called
a
Phoenix
back
before
Christ
:
every
few
hundred
years
he
built
a
pyre
and
burned
himself
up
.
He
must
have
been
first
cousin
to
Man
.
But
every
time
he
burnt
himself
up
he
sprang
out
of
the
ashes
,
he
got
himself
born
all
over
again
.
And
it
looks
like
we
're
doing
the
same
thing
,
over
and
over
,
but
we
've
got
one
damn
thing
the
Phoenix
never
had
.
We
know
the
damn
silly
thing
we
just
did
.
We
know
all
the
damn
silly
things
we
've
done
for
a
thousand
years
,
and
as
long
as
we
know
that
and
always
have
it
around
where
we
can
see
it
,
some
day
we
'll
stop
making
the
goddam
funeral
pyres
and
jumping
into
the
middle
of
them
.
We
pick
up
a
few
more
people
that
remember
,
every
generation
.
"
He
took
the
pan
off
the
fire
and
let
the
bacon
cool
and
they
ate
it
,
slowly
,
thoughtfully
.
"
Now
,
let
's
get
on
upstream
,
"
said
Granger
.
"
And
hold
on
to
one
thought
:
You
're
not
important
.
You
're
not
anything
.
Some
day
the
load
we
're
carrying
with
us
may
help
someone
.
But
even
when
we
had
the
books
on
hand
,
a
long
time
ago
,
we
did
n't
use
what
we
got
out
of
them
.
We
went
right
on
insulting
the
dead
.
We
went
right
on
spitting
in
the
graves
of
all
the
poor
ones
who
died
before
us
.
We
're
going
to
meet
a
lot
of
lonely
people
in
the
next
week
and
the
next
month
and
the
next
year
.
And
when
they
ask
us
what
we
're
doing
,
you
can
say
,
We
're
remembering
.
That
's
where
we
'll
win
out
in
the
long
run
.
And
some
day
we
'll
remember
so
much
that
we
'll
build
the
biggest
goddam
steam-shovel
in
history
and
dig
the
biggest
grave
of
all
time
and
shove
war
in
and
cover
it
up
.
Come
on
now
,
we
're
going
to
go
build
a
mirror-factory
first
and
put
out
nothing
but
mirrors
for
the
next
year
and
take
a
long
look
in
them
.
"
They
finished
eating
and
put
out
the
fire
.
The
day
was
brightening
all
about
them
as
if
a
pink
lamp
had
been
given
more
wick
.
In
the
trees
,
the
birds
that
had
flown
away
now
came
back
and
settled
down
.
Montag
began
walking
and
after
a
moment
found
that
the
others
had
fallen
in
behind
him
,
going
north
.
He
was
surprised
,
and
moved
aside
to
let
Granger
pass
,
but
Granger
looked
at
him
and
nodded
him
on
.
Montag
went
ahead
.
He
looked
at
the
river
and
the
sky
and
the
rusting
track
going
back
down
to
where
the
farms
lay
,
where
the
barns
stood
full
of
hay
,
where
a
lot
of
people
had
walked
by
in
the
night
on
their
way
from
the
city
.
Later
,
in
a
month
or
six
months
,
and
certainly
not
more
than
a
year
,
he
would
walk
along
here
again
,
alone
,
and
keep
right
on
going
until
he
caught
up
with
the
people
.
But
now
there
was
a
long
morning
's
walk
until
noon
,
and
if
the
men
were
silent
it
was
because
there
was
everything
to
think
about
and
much
to
remember
.
Perhaps
later
in
the
morning
,
when
the
sun
was
up
and
had
warmed
them
,
they
would
begin
to
talk
,
or
just
say
the
things
they
remembered
,
to
be
sure
they
were
there
,
to
be
absolutely
certain
that
things
were
safe
in
them
.
Montag
felt
the
slow
stir
of
words
,
the
slow
simmer
.
And
when
it
came
to
his
turn
,
what
could
he
say
,
what
could
he
offer
on
a
day
like
this
,
to
make
the
trip
a
little
easier
?
To
everything
there
is
a
season
.
Yes
.
A
time
to
break
down
,
and
a
time
to
build
up
.
Yes
.
A
time
to
keep
silence
and
a
time
to
speak
.
Yes
,
all
that
.
But
what
else
.
What
else
?
Something
,
something
...
